Mockingjay Forever
by heroine921
Summary: Set in between the final chapter of Mockingjay and the epilogue. A few things are changed. This is the story of Katniss' healing. Please read & review! All comments are welcome!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

I lose track of time. Days. Weeks. Months. Who knows? I am just a shell of myself. I haven't had the particular desire to do _anything_. I have to remind myself to eat, sleep, shower. Daily things I'm supposed to do that keep me alive pass over my mind in a glaze. All I feel is…_empty._ Complete emptiness. I don't even hurt, get angry, or cry anymore.

Look what has become of the face of the rebellion. The Mockingjay. The girl on fire. Wings clipped. Flames doused. Life sucked out. Empty. Completely weak and empty. What used to be so strong. What used to be a symbol of determination and perseverance. I've given up on life. I've given up on everything. Dying now wouldn't even satisfy me anymore, even if it brings me closer to Prim in some weird way. _Primrose Everdeen!_ I hear Effie's voice at the reaping. It feels decades ago. The terror on her face when she heard her name. The terror on _my _face when I heard her name. What would life have been like had that moment never happened? Would I still hunt in the woods? Would Prim have grown out of her girlish ways so soon? Would the rebellion still have carried on the way it did? _Yes. It would have_. Somewhere, deep, deep, _very _deep, I know that my life was drawn out before I was ever born. I know that all the things I have suffered would still have happened, in slightly different form. Somehow, I was destined to go to the Hunger Games. If Prim's name hadn't been called, mine surely would have been. My name was in the drawing ball more than any other female child in District 12. It may have taken another year or so, but I still would have been in the Games. Somehow. It was what I was meant to do. I'm a fighter. A survivor.

And in some horrible twist of fate, Peeta would have always been linked to me. He would have gone to the Games, whether I had been there that year or not. He would still have confessed his love to me on national television. He would have won. He would have come back. And I know the Capitol would have expected me to run into his open arms, claiming my victor, my lover, forever. Snow would still have threatened everything I loved, because I would automatically have been vital to the Capitol's image. After hearing what Snow did to Haymitch and Finnick after they won, I know it would only have been a matter of time before he was at my door as well. And it was inevitable that Peeta and I both ended up in the Quell. Snow would have made sure of that one way or the other.

But not even Snow could have anticipated what the Girl on Fire would do to the county of Panem. Eventually, I would still have become the very fuse the lit the bomb. Snow unconsciously would have guaranteed my fate with his own character. His coercive ways would have pushed me to anger and solidified my defiance. It was bound to happen. The more Snow tried to stop me, the more he blew on the fire that was stirring. _Katniss Everdeen, the girl on fire!_ Caesar Flickerman's voice this time. Finally, the Games had backfired on the Capitol, on Snow.

I look out of my window into Victor's Village, breaking my thoughts. I don't remember how he got there, but I'm holding Buttercup. My last trace of Prim's life. All of this, I started for her. But I still didn't keep her safe.

I still failed. _You didn't fail, Katniss. You won. You promised me you would win the Games, and you did. Then you promised to be the Mockingjay, and lead the rebels to unity against the Capitol. You did. You gave us all a future. And I got to help. You should be happy, Katniss. I am happy._ I can hear Prim's voice, exactly what she would say to me if she could. What my father would say to me if he could too. And for the first time in…weeks I think…I actually feel pain. I actually have an emotion. I'm reminded that I'm still alive. And I cry. Just one tear. But it holds the pain from everything I have ever seen in my life. My father, the Games, the tributes, Rue, Finnick, Prim, the list continues. So many people died to keep me alive, or even at my own hand. And the whole time I repaid them by not trusting anyone and not listening to anyone. What kind of person does that? Now I feel angry at myself, for being so horrible to the people who helped me. For letting myself waste away, making their sacrifices for me completely worthless. I am completely worthless.

But everyone saw something in me. A drive. They say their Mockingjay, their Girl on Fire. And I know I have to move on. Right now. So I get in the shower, ice cold, and wash everything away. I almost feel as if I'm washing the pain, the memories. Then I realize I don't want to wash the memories. They make me free. I'm finally free. And it's time to return to the strong person that everyone seemed to see in me.

_Katniss Everdeen, the Girl on Fire! Katniss Everdeen, the Mockingjay._

If I break, what will everyone else do? For the all those who sacrificed everything for me. For all those who lost everything for me. _I am Katniss Everdeen, the Girl on Fire. I am the Mockingjay. Forever._

More time passed, and I came alive again. Living for those lost, living for Prim and my father. Finnick, oh Finnick. We suffered so similarly, yet so differently. We had so much in common, yet so little. I miss his companionship. In retrospect, he was probably the only real male friend I had –Haymitch is more like a weird drunk uncle who is somehow always there, and Boggs, he was like a real mentor me— whose relationship wasn't strained by romantic desires. I wish I could talk to him again. I actually smile at the thought of Finnick. He was such a complex individual under his superficial "sex god" image made by the Capitol. He was a light to anyone who really knew him. I own him more than I can repay him, but I'm sure he felt the same way for me. I kept him sane back in 13, and he did the same for me. I helped him get Annie back, which I know meant more to him than he could put into words. For once, I helped someone. _Only for him to give his life for me later._ But I try not to think of that quite as much.

I began to sing. I'm not really sure when or how, but I started to sing all the time. Greasy Sae says my voice is even more beautiful than my father's was. I even call my mother now, every few days. I sing to her on the phone too, because I know it reminds her of happy times with both my father and Prim. One day I apologized to my mother. When she sunk into her depression after my father died, I didn't cut her any slack. I could honestly say I hated her for a long time. But I didn't understand how she felt. And now that I do, I wish I could take it all back. I wish I could rewind time and comfort her like I should have. But my mother never holds my actions against me. Like she understands what I was feeling too, even though she was wasting away. I guess that was my form of grieving my father, intentionally hurting my mother. And her form of grieving was doing nothing, but unintentionally hurting Prim. Now I understand. When I apologized, she cried a little. The next day, she flew to visit me for a couple days, even though I knew it tore her heart to do so. I didn't know how much I needed that visit until she left. I felt so alone again, but I knew that my mother would always be my mother. She would always be there, until time took her away from me.

I haven't spoken to Gale or Peeta since I left the Capitol. Somehow I know they are just fine, moving on with their lives. With any luck, Peeta will be even more recovered by now. The boy with the bread. The thought makes me smile. And I realize I miss him. I miss him holding me at night, keeping my nightmares at bay and calming me when they took over. I miss his strong will to protect me from everything in the world. I miss trying to do the same for him. I miss him always knowing what to say, especially when I didn't. I miss him…being him. I just miss Peeta. All of him.

And Gale. I couldn't explain how much his comfort. I miss running off to a storage closet somewhere, to find Gale coming in a few minutes later. I miss the relationship we had before my first Games. Before Peeta said he loved me. Before the Capitol said Gale was my cousin. Before Gale said that he loved me too. Before he kissed me. Before I kissed him. Before all of that. I miss my hunting partner. _My hunting partner._ And I realize that that is all Gale can ever be to me. My hunting partner. Friends, family even, but nothing more. I never realized how I had no relationship with Gale before my father died. Surely, he had been hunting before I was hunting on my own. One just doesn't wake up and know how to hunt and make snares. Gale filled the void that was left by my father. Now I realize why he is, or was I guess, so important to me. I never realized it. It's probably my own fault for him falling for me too. I didn't hate the few kisses we shared, but they didn't really stick out to me either. I basically led him on. I wish I could apologize for that. But I know nothing anyone could say, especially me, could mend an aching heart. Even if it could, I know part of me will never forgive the bomb that killed Prim. Gale didn't tell them to drop it, but it probably wouldn't have ever been made without him…

Haymitch never visited. But I did stop every Tuesday to make sure he wasn't dead from his liquor. I should know better than that. He has been drinking far too long. Still, I enjoy his company occasionally. I always bring leftovers from Greasy Sae's cooking when I visit, just to be safe. Most of the time we don't need to speak, but when we do it is meaningful.

"Plutarch and Paylor are doing a pretty good job in the Capitol. Have you seen any of the broadcasts lately?" He asks one Tuesday.

"Of course not." I reply. "Anything worth mentioning?" I ask as I pour a cup of water.

"Nothing you would care for." He answers. I expected as much, but why bother bringing it up at all? "There's going to be a tribute service in a few weeks."

"Another? Who is it for this time?" I'm uninterested. Every person who gave their life for the cause of the rebellion has received a memorial service of some kind.

"You." I am taken aback at his words.

"_Me?_ But I'm still alive." I say.

"Have you been keeping track of time at all, sweetheart?"

"No, actually. It…it's easier if I don't." My voice gets very quiet. Haymitch nods in understanding and continues.

"It's the 5 year anniversary of your first reaping." I choke on my sip of water.

"What?!" I spit out? Haymitch seems pleased with my surprise. "That's impossible. I can't be – the rebellion has been over for 2 years?" I asked. Haymitch nods while taking another swig of liquor. _2 years. No way._

"More than that actually. The time sure flies. I know." Haymitch says. I still can't believe it. It must mean I was completely utterly depressed for what, a year and a half? Longer? I don't even know. "Don't feel bad." He adds, as if he can read my thoughts. "After Snow killed my parents I was depressed much longer than you were. In fact, I couldn't even tell you what I did for at least 10 years after that. It was an empty blur." He says, drunken but deathly serious. And that does make me feel better, but worse for feeling better. I wish I could say something, but I know I can't. I have never been good with words.

"So…what is this ceremony all about?" I ask after a minute of silence.

"It's to honor you, Katniss Everdeen. The Girl on Fire, the Mockingjay. It's for the people of Panem to give you a formal thank you. You don't have to go, but it would be encouraging to the people. To see that they didn't give up everything for nothing. To see that the person who has suffered the most at the direct hand of Snow, is still strong. It will be good for you too."

"So you think I should go? I don't know. Two years…back to the Capitol…"

"Just think about it." Haymitch says. He has stopped drinking enough to be serious with me. As much as Haymitch and I may disagree on a regular basis, we understand each other. We have a very similar character, although we would never admit it openly. He knows when to say something that will count. And for Haymitch, those opportunities are few and far between. But he always says the right thing, ultimately.

"Ok." I say. And I already know that I will be there, in the Capitol. As much as I would love to stay out of public eye, I am still the Mockingjay. _Forever_.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The Capitol is not really much different from how I remember it. The most remarkable difference has to be the fact instead of crazy colorful getups and hairdos, everyone looks pretty normal. High fashion is still obviously admired here, but it isn't so…loud. Many of the men no longer wear makeup, which I think is an improvement. It makes me think back to Cinna, and the simple eyeliner he always wore. I miss Cinna too. I made a list of all the people I wish to personally thank by name for their sacrifices. Cinna is the first. Before I knew it, he was always on my side. I was always his Mockingjay. _Bless his heart._

When I get to the mansion, my old prep team greets me. "Katniss! We were afraid you wouldn't come!" Octavia greeted me happily. She hugged me tightly, knocking most of the air out of my body. I smiled back at her, genuinely happy to see them all.

"How are you guys?" I asked. I'm glad to hear they are all doing well. They are now President Paylor's personal crew for public appearances.

"How come you haven't visited before now?" Flavius asked curiously.

"I don't know." I lied. I didn't visit because I simply never wanted to. But I couldn't tell them that I was a broken version of myself for the greater portion of 2 and a half years. My team seemed to be satisfied with my answer and started to go on about how much they enjoyed the Capitol so much more now that Paylor was the president.

My prep team was amazed at how flawless my skin was. This seemed ironic to me because the last time I paid attention to what I looked like, I had burn marks all over. I have no idea how they managed to disappear. I never cared for the burn marks or got polished. Venia said I had more color to me than she had ever seen. She said I looked even more alive than the first time she met me. I almost laugh at how ridiculous it sounds in my ears.

I'm not quite as dead as I once was, but I'm sure not really alive yet either.

The ceremony was held in the city circle, in front of the president's mansion. I stood among the crowd, dressed in all black with my hood pulled over me. It covered a sizable portion of my face so I wouldn't be seen. I was supposed to make a grand entrance for the people of Panem, who were not told I would be at the service. For a second everything was dark, and suddenly videos of me were playing everywhere. The first video was of course the reaping Prim was chosen as a tribute. They replayed the lines "I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!" over and over with a freeze-frame of my face. I didn't realize how fierce I looked. At the time, I was just scared. I knew I was going to die. But on camera, I looked like I knew I was going to win. I guess that's what everyone meant when they told me I was "camera-ready".

Then the stage lit up, and President Paylor was standing at the podium. "From the very beginning, Katniss Everdeen was determined and put the lives of others above her own. She valued her family more than anything in the world. Her one goal was to keep her sister, Primrose Everdeen safe." The lights on Paylor die and another video plays. A tribute to Prim. I cry. Everyone cries. They show the goodbye I gave Prim before my first Games. They showed us being reunited. They show almost every clip they have with me and Prim together. Then they go on about how she helped the rebellion. How she was a gifted healer, better than most doctors, even without formal training. The countless number of lives she saved with her two hands. How she was willing to go to the front lines to help anyone wounded. How she was only 13 when she was killed. By rebels. On Coin's command. A part of me thanked Paylor for allowing that fact to be made public. Paylor publically justified why I assassinated the president of Panem.

"Anyone who knew Katniss would not blame her for her actions. Everything Katniss did was for the future of Panem, the future of Primrose Everdeen. Former President Coin not only ordered the death of many children of Capitol officials, but of her own squad of medics. Coin deliberately sent Primrose into the frontline, although she had not reached the minimum age. We will hold a moment of silence for Primrose Everdeen, who was the spark for our own spark, our Mockingjay. We owe Primrose as much thanks as we owe to Katniss Everdeen. All of us." The stage went dark again. For what seemed like forever, the entire country was silent. All of Panem was thanking Prim and mourning her for me. And it felt so sincere. I could hear light sniffs through the microphone, indicating that Paylor too was touched as well.

At this point, I couldn't help myself. Screw the grand entrance I was supposed to make later when they got to the war footage. I had to do it now. I pulled my hood down and started pushing my way through the crowd, not trying to be silent. People started to look closely at me to discover the commotion. Someone shouted "She's here!" No need to explain who _she_ was.

Within a second the spotlight pinpointed me. The crowd immediately parted like a sea of water receding from the middle. I froze for a second, once they focused every camera on me and put me on the big screen. I took a deep breath and continued on. I got to the stage and Paylor shook my hand. She offered a slight smile and gestured towards the podium. I nodded, indicating that I would speak.

I stood there silent for about thirty seconds, just looking out at the multitudes of people. Maybe I didn't realize how much I meant to so many people. Or maybe I just didn't see it firsthand. But now I can see. Just like back in District 11, on the Victory Tour so many years ago, everyone put their three middle fingers to their lips and extended them to me. All synchronized, like it was planned. But I know it wasn't. I know every single person out there meant it. I could feel their appreciation. No one hated me, even though my actions probably indirectly caused the death of so many of their loved ones. No one ever put the blame on my shoulders .They always stood behind me. I was always their Mockingjay, before I formally accepted the role. My first Hunger Games ignited these people. And I kept feeding the fire. My misfortune as well as my continued determination to show President Snow and the Capitol I wasn't a simple pawn kept everyone going. I had to hurt for these people. I had to bear their pain for them. I finally understood just what it meant to be the Mockingjay. To them, I represented everything desirable in life. Beauty, strength, intelligence, and independence. I was the shoulder they could all put their pain on. I was the one who fought for them. I was the one who freed them. Suddenly, I knew just what to say to them all.

"Remember." I said simply. "Remember. _Remember._" They hung on every syllable. "Never, ever, forget what Panem was like before the rebellion. Never forget the poverty. Never forget watching your children die for the entertainment of our old oppressors. Never forget. _Always remember_. Never forget the pain you felt. The people you lost. It's all a reminder of a place we never want to be again. Let's keep the peace this time. The only way to do that is to remember. Remember Rue. Cinna. Finnick. Prim. Your mothers, your fathers, brothers and sisters. Every single child who was a tribute to the sick Hunger Games. Remember Snow, and who he really was. How he blackmailed and coerced even his own friends. How he dealt death whenever he deemed fit. How he took the lives of your children! How he took my life!" I finished. The crowd cheered for me. They started to chant "Remember, remember, remember Katniss!" I to a step back from the podium and finally returned the salute the people of Panem had all given me.

Paylor took control of the podium once again as I took a seat next to Plutarch on the stage. He whispered something to me about how he was amazed how perfect I was for television but only when I didn't try to be. I turned my attention back to Paylor, who was making another speech about the war and the atrocities that Snow committed throughout the duration. More videos played, but I don't remember half of it. They showed more of me, and more, and some more.

"And finally," Paylor ended her final speech –the part where I was really supposed to make my entrance. "As Katniss said, _remember_." I thought the ceremony was over and got up to leave, when Plutarch pulled me gently back down by my arm. I thought it was odd for him to still be holding my hand. As soon as I looked up I understood.

Peeta was walking up the steps to the stage. I know my heart stopped. I didn't think I would ever see him again. I didn't know what to do. He gave me a slight nod, acknowledging me. I was still frozen, waiting for my heart to turn itself back on.

I barely hear what Peeta says. But I notice him reaching out his hand for me to join him. I almost refuse, but Plutarch gives a light squeeze on my hand. I didn't notice he was still holding it.

The crowd was silent as I crossed the stage to join him. Every step felt like a mile. He watched me, gave me a faint smile. He grabs my hand when I reach him and I feel a sort of electricity run through my body. I know my palms must have started sweating, but he didn't let go. The crowd cheered more loudly than I had heard them all night. I don't even know what Peeta said before he called me to join him. He looks at me, waiting for me to speak. I don't know where the words come from, but I know they are the right ones.

"I…I want to thank all of you, Panem. Without you unfaltering faith, I wouldn't have been a symbol of anything. I wouldn't have been your Mockingjay. There were times…that I wanted to run too. I know how you all felt. I wished I could have just escaped it all. But…I knew the rebellion needed me just as much as I needed a better Panem for my Prim, my mother…I knew we all needed a face to look to, a shoulder to cry on. I am honored you let me be that face, that shoulder for Panem. So I thank you, Panem. Thank you for all of your sacrifices. There are far too many to name, but we all know who you are. And we will always…_always remember_." I finished with tears in my eyes. How I wish I could run to my father, or lay next to Prim in our cot back in District 12, 5 years ago.

"On behalf of all of Panem." Peeta says. Now he lets my hand go and steps back to give me District 12's salute. The crowd falls silent and does the same once again. This one feels even more powerful than the first one. The people still believe in me. Somehow, Peeta, whoever he might be now, still believes in me. I face the crowd and keep the fiercest face I can muster as I return the salute. Then I turn to Peeta and do the same.

I touch the tips of my 3 fingers to his.


End file.
